


The Crushing Weight of Failure

by EdosianOrchids901



Series: Plain Simple Prompts [36]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Angst, Depression, Established Relationship, M/M, POV First Person, POV Julian Bashir, Post-Episode: s04e24 The Quickening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 09:01:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16343831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdosianOrchids901/pseuds/EdosianOrchids901
Summary: Dialogue prompt: “Sometimes I wonder if I’m really cut out for this line of work.”





	The Crushing Weight of Failure

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a series of ficlets based on dialogue prompts from Tumblr. Written 7/18.

I’d always tried to be the kind of person who was punctual. And a lot of the time, I managed to pull it off, even if that involved setting multiple reminders with the computer. 

Lately, though, I’d been so consumed with my work that I’d nearly forgotten everything else existed. My life had distilled to falling asleep in the Infirmary, wolfing down the occasional meal at my desk, and spending every waking hour trying to find a cure for the Teplan Blight – or, as it had come to be known, the Quickening. 

And so it was that I completely forgot I was supposed to be meeting Elim for dinner. I felt terrible about how badly I’d neglected him since my return. He’d been mostly understanding – a few gentle, teasing jabs here and there, but no hounding – which honestly made me feel even worse. I knew how much he missed having me home, but there were so many lives at stake that I just couldn’t break myself away from my research. 

So, when I looked up to see Garak standing in the doorway, his expression politely inquisitive, I felt like the worst partner in the world. “Oh god,” I mumbled, only now realizing how late I must be. 

“Good evening, my dear.” He came to my side, still with that same polite smile. “I believe we had a dinner engagement?”

“I’m so, so sorry.” I scrambled to my feet, kicking myself for not setting my usual reminder. “How long were you waiting?”

“Oh, it wasn’t too much trouble,” he replied, completely dodging my question. “I’ve just been doing some reading. Andorian poetry, actually, quite interesting.”

“Ah, yeah.” Normally, I’d have engaged him in conversation about it – what was interesting about it, should I read it, how did it compare to Bajoran poetry? But tonight, everything just felt so heavy, and I couldn’t bring myself to say any more. I was too deeply lost in my own mind.

What exactly was the point of being a doctor if I couldn’t help people? All this time, and I’d yet to come up with a single thing that would save the adults. Everyone kept telling me that at least I’d found a vaccine, at least the next generation could grow up healthy. And yet, it seemed so damned hollow compared to all those who were dying even now. 

I sank into a chair at the Replimat, barely even noticing as Elim collected food and joined me. I felt like I was sinking into a mire, and I wasn’t sure if I could get out of it. 

“Julian?” Garak’s voice, unusually tentative, broke through my fog. “I would generally ask if you’re all right, but I’m well aware that you’re not. I do, however, extend an offer to discuss the problems at hand.”

I raised my head, meeting his concerned gaze. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m really cut out for this line of work.”

He drew back, staring at me with shock. “You’re having doubts about being a doctor?”

“Yeah, I’m not sure I even qualify for that title right now.” Suddenly furious with myself, I threw my padd down on the table. It skittered across the surface and would have tumbled to the floor had Elim not caught it. “I mean, what right do I have to go around calling myself a doctor? It’s my fault those people are dying. My stupid, stupid arrogance. I promised them a cure, and what did I do?”

Garak tilted his head but didn’t interrupt me. “I got them a vaccine,” I continued bitterly. “Well, that’s great for the unborn. But what about everyone else? How can I let them all down like that and still claim that I’m a doctor? I’m supposed to save people, Elim! But it feels like all I do is watch them die. Have I ever even saved anyone? Maybe my success with other patients was just dumb luck, and they’d have lived anyway!”

I knew damn well that what I was saying was completely irrational, but I couldn’t stop. All the despair, the guilt, the self-doubt… it was too much to take anymore. 

“I’m such a failure.” I stared down at the table, feeling a growing disconnect with the world around me. Was I about to pass out? Or was I just dissociating? “I’ve failed everyone.”

For a second, I thought I really was about to collapse… and then grey hands, cool to the touch, folded around my own. “You haven’t failed me.” 

Almost dazed, I looked at Garak again. I had a belated realization that he’d moved his chair next to mine, and I wondered when he’d done so. 

He gave a soft sigh at my lost expression and squeezed my hands as he gazed at me. “My dearest Julian, you have saved people. For example, me. And that, might I add, was not an insignificant task. I wouldn’t be sitting here with you, at this table, in the Replimat, on this station, if not for your dedication and care.”

I vaguely recognized that he was trying to ground me by describing our surroundings, and I would have appreciated it if I’d been energetic enough to care about anything. “I’m just so tired, Elim. I’m so tired of all of it.”

With an understanding nod, he stood and drew me to my feet. “I certainly understand that. Come along – I’m taking you home, and you’re going to get a full night’s rest. Tomorrow, you can get back to work and we’ll talk about this more if you’d like.”

Too weary and depressed to argue about it, I simply nodded as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and guided me towards the lift. I couldn’t muster up the self-confidence to even consider going back to work right now, so for tonight, I would let him take care of me.


End file.
